


The Epithets!

by Anonymous



Category: Fail_Fandomanon RPF
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Separately, they're the lacrosse goalie, the quirky teen, the ex-murder suspect, the archer, the agent, the blonde, the point man, the architect, the ex-slave, the telepath; together, they become The Epithets!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Epithets!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minim Calibre (minim_calibre)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minim_calibre/gifts).



> Happy Fullmoon Pancake Tuesday, Minim Calibre! Odds are that you are not any of the nonnies in this thread: <http://fail-fandomanon.livejournal.com/66297.html?thread=311887097#t311887097> but, the beauty of meme is it's always possible you might have been!

“We need a plan, people, or at least some ideas,” the blonde said. “Nefarious Shadowy Organization has to be stopped, and we're the only ones who can do it.” 

“Okay!” the quirky teen enthused, “I'll make the friendship bracelets! What colors should they be?”

“Why don't we table that one for now?” the point man said. “Let's look at our resources first.” 

“Well, you have me,” the ex-slave murmured, barely audible. “I've seen how they operate day-to-day, up close. Sometimes they forget themselves, say things in front of the slaves that they wouldn't say in front of another person.”

The architect gave the ex-slave's shoulder a squeeze in the somber silence that followed. “I can probably get a copy of the plans for their headquarters. I'll see if there are any weaknesses we can exploit.”

“You have my bow,” the archer added. 

“And I have a big stick,” offered the lacrosse player.

“Yeah, you do.” The quirky teen winked at the lacrosse player. 

“Ugh. Keep that thought to yourself,” the telepath said with a grimace. “If you can get me inside for a little recon, I'll see what I can pick up.”

“It's a good idea.” The agent nodded, pointing at the architect, the telepath, the ex-slave, and the point man. “You four will go in on initial recon, and we'll regroup based on your findings.” 

“The rest of us should be keeping our ears to the ground,” the blonde said. “Anything we hear about the Nefarious Shadowy Organization in our regular circles comes back to the group. Maybe we find enough scraps to build a useful whole.” 

Departure from the meeting place was staggered, the conspirators leaving singly or in pairs – the architect was never far from the ex-slave's side these days – through different exits.

“Guess I'm outie,” the quirky teen said, skipping toward the back door, leaving only three behind. 

The blonde and the agent exchanged worried frowns, before moving to the tabletop where the ex-murder suspect sat, head bowed. 

“You're quiet,” the blonde said and took up a perch on the table, bumping their shoulders together. 

The ex-murder suspect shrugged eloquently. “It's just hard, knowing that you're all putting yourselves at risk because of me.”

“Not 'because of' you. Because Nefarious Shadowy Organization's methods and purposes are fundamentally wrong.” The agent dropped a hand onto the ex-murder suspect's knee. “Don't get me wrong; they framed the wrong person, and I'm going to take particular pleasure in making them pay for it, but we were always going to end up here.” 

“I guess I know that. And I wanted to be part of it, not as a symbol or a mascot or a martyr. All I am anymore is “the ex-murder suspect”.”

“That could never be true." A blonde head tilted against a slumped shoulder. "You're also the blonde's lover.”

“And the agent's partner, in every sense of the word.” The agent's free hand traced the curve of the other's cheek. 

“The heart of the group.” 

“You're you."

"And no one gets to rewrite that.”


End file.
